A Mocking Jove
by werewolf.love
Summary: When Hermione is held prisoner by Lucius Malfoy, her suitors are eager to rescue her. But whose heart will win her's in the end? Warning: noncon, slash multiple pairings
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: So none of these characters are mine. They all belong to J.K. Rowling (even if she doesn't always make them as gay as they need be...)

Author's Note: I wanted to write something a little less fluffy this time and this is the result. This will eventually be Snape/Hermione but I don't see that happening for a few more chapters. This is my first attempt at a het story so...we'll see.

Warning: involves some light noncon and slash (though not too much of either yet unfortunately)

Chapter One

"Screaming won't help, child," came the cold voice, low and husky at her ear. Hermione Granger brought her lips together, closing her mouth from the scream, and ran her tongue quickly over them. They tasted thick with blood and felt raw to the touch. She tried to lift a hand to tend to the pain but her arms only tugged helplessly above her head, bound with a heavy chain.

"I thought you might enjoy it more this way, child," came that eerie voice again, ringing with haughtiness. When she looked up, Hermione was not at all shocked to see Lucius Malfoy standing there. His long blonde hair was tied out of his face so that it fell like a river down his back, which was lean and bare. If she hadn't been so frightened, Hermione might have remembered to be aroused by the sight of Draco's father shirtless. His build was much similar to his son's, their faces with the same intimidating, beautiful angles. The same penetrating eyes. Hermione bit her lip anxiously and tasted more copper and salt. _Please let me not be crying_, she pleaded inwardly.

"Sorry about all the blood, child, but you were not cooperating. No," he moved his body forward so their hips met ever so gently. "I shall be punishing you for that."

A shiver ran up her spine as he pressed himself harder against her.

"Like that, do you?" Lucius mused, repeating the gesture. He dipped his head down to hers and kissed her softly on the forehead. "There will be plenty of time for that, child. As soon as I'm finished here, there will be plenty of time for that." With one more thrust that caught her breath as it nudged her pubic bone, Lucius raised his fist above his head and brought it down sharply across Hermione's face. A groan escaped her lips despite her best efforts and Lucius laughed before raising his wand and bruising it into her chest.

"Are you ready, child? _Crucio_!"

* * *

"What do you mean they've taken her?" Harry yelled across his Potions Master's desk. "When did this happen? How?"

Severus Snape held his head in his hands, attempting to will away the migraine fighting to come forth. Potter was making it near impossible, however, as he had the tendency to do.

"Mr. Potter, do not forget me. I am still your professor and you will, by all means, continue to be respectful towards me as long as we are still within these walls. Now, if you will take a seat and shut your mouth for just one moment, I will answer all of your questions." Harry's face went positively red with fury before he finally released a lasting breath and sank into a chair.

"Sorry Professor," he muttered as politely as he could possibly muster for his least favorite Hogwarts teacher. "Please, sir. Where have the death eaters taken Hermione?"

"This," Snape began with a deep breath, "is a difficult question to answer, for it is not certain. Yet, I have my ideas."

"What are you thinking, sir?" Harry asked, watching his professor with careful eyes.

"I believe that Miss Granger was captured by the death eaters with orders from a higher power."

"Voldemort?" asked Harry, his eyes widened in horror.

"Not so dramatic, Potter. I believe Lucius Malfoy is up to this one."

"Malfoy?" Harry shook his head fiercely, nearly sending his glasses flying off his face. "Why would Malfoy want anything to do with Hermione?"

"Are you so daft boy, as to think she's of no use to him?" asked Snape, arching an eyebrow insinuatingly.

"You don't mean…"

"I mean exactly that, Potter," Snape finished, finally abandoning the messaging of his temples. He stood up from his chair to pace. "I think that Lucius wants to have his fun and destroy a mudblood in the process. Rather cliché, killing two birds with one stone and whatnot. He has never been horribly discreet, Lucius Malfoy."

"Sir, we've got to find her! We've got to save her!" Harry yelled, springing to his feet yet again, his voice in a rushed panic. Snape shook his head incredulously.

"No Potter. I intend to leave Miss Granger to her inevitable doom. In the hands of Lucius, she shall remain," Snape said. After a moment of Harry's gawking, he relented and just barely resisted his urge to smirk. "Retrieve your minions Potter. We leave in five minutes to recapture our precious Hermione."

* * *

The pain was all she could think about, all that filled her. Curdling pain that swam through every limb like a river of icy fire of the most indescribable force. Pain that overwhelmed every other conscious thought, other than one. _Let me die!_ She wanted so terribly, more than anything in the entire world, to be killed, to be left alone of the torture that seemed endless.

After five seconds of the curse, Lucius lowered his wand, grinning cruelly.

"Dear child, that wasn't so bad. Not nearly as bad as what I can do. Yes. I _can_ do worse," he spoke as he moved in closer to Hermione, reaching a hand out to touch the chestnut hair that was lying in excruciated curls along her shoulders.

"Girl, your hair is gorgeous. Your pulchritude is well beyond your years, as is your intelligence. Or so I hear from my son. You know him." His caresses became rough, his hand pressing down on her neck with heavy pets. "Draco. _My_ son. _My_ boy. I know about you two." Now, Lucius was busying himself with Hermione's shirt buttons. She squirmed against his motions, but he was too strong and held her taut.

"Tell me child…how long have you been fucking my son?" he asked, his voice strained with a note Hermione had never heard in it before. "How long?" He left her shirt open, her midriff and bra exposed. She could feel her face blushing but she tried to hold it back. Lucius would not get to her. She didn't have time to feel embarrassed. She had to think and live.

"More importantly, dear, how long have you been wanting a taste of something more?"

With the words, Hermione's head snapped up. Her honey brown eyes burned the gray of Lucius' as she tried her hardest to kill him with her stare. He only kissed her bucking head again and laughed when she bit his hand.

"Oh dear. Feisty, aren't we?" He slapped her hard across the face and she let go of his hand, spitting the blood at him viciously. What he did next made her wish she hadn't let go.

He raised the broken skin to his mouth and licked up the bright red trail of blood with his tongue.

"You don't want to see what I can do!" he yelled in her face so of a sudden that Hermione gasped in the back of her throat. "Don't test me, child!"

Hermione lowered her head and stifled back the tears that came. They rolled down her cheek and splattered to the ground. For the first time, Hermione noticed her surroundings. The floor was a dark stone with walls of the same nature. Torches lit the dungeon in an almost serene light that sadistically reminded her of Gryffindor common room.

"Speak, child," he demanded, holding her face between his hands, the one still bleeding freely. "Speak to me and tell me how you wish to be remembered."

With defiance reminiscent of Draco, Hermione shook her head.

"Speak, mudblood!"

Hermione scrounged up enough energy to look Lucius in the eyes and laugh. This earned her another blow to the face and she couldn't stop the moan that left her throat. This seemed to please Lucius.

"Yes, it hurts. Moan, child. I want to hear your pain."

"Lucius," she said, her voice a rough scratch that sounded much more weak than she had wished it to.

"Yes dear?"

"Fuck you."

"Since you asked so nicely."

* * *

Five minutes later, Harry ambled into Snape's office followed by three others: Ron Weasley, Draco Malfoy, and Pansy Parkinson. They stood awkwardly beside one another, their faces stricken with worry.

"This is who you bring me?" Snape asked, eyeing the group warily. "Well this will do for the task, I suppose. If _you_ think they are the best choices."

Harry cleared his throat. "Well you said to gather my minions, sir."

"Minions?" snorted Draco. Ron elbowed him in the ribs at the same time Pansy stepped on his foot.

"_Minions_, Mr. Potter," said Snape, ignoring the others present. "Not Miss Granger's list of ex-boyfriends."

Pansy cleared her throat in protest, but Snape dutifully ignored her.

"Pardon me sir, but I just figured the best people to save Hermione were the people that cared about her the most," Harry replied slowly.

"Of course that's what you thought, Mr. Potter. I expected no less from you," said Snape, smirking. "You all have your wands? Right. Then we have little time to spare. Follow me."

"Harry, where is he going to take us?" Ron asked Harry under his breath as they all walked out of the Potions classroom.

"Don't know yet."

"Do we know who took her?" Draco whispered to them. Harry shot an accusatory glare at him.

"Yeah. Your dad."

Pansy squeaked and Draco nearly tripped on his robes.

"Do keep up," came Snape's voice from further down the hallway. He walked in long strides, already several yards ahead of them.

* * *

Hermione was hanging limply against the cool dungeon walls, held up only by her chained wrists. Her hair fell over her face and in her tear-swollen eyes. The loose, chestnut curls were partially covering her breasts, which were now exposed from the white brazier she wore before. It was lying on the floor two feet away. A trail of blood trickled down her pale abdomen until it met the head of blonde hair kneeling against the stretch of skin lower than her belly button but higher than where her knickers began. As the blood oozed into the silken hair, Hermione breathed heavily, willing away the fear and disgust that was creeping up her throat, for Lucius was now working his tongue along the light trail of hair that teased her stomach. His tongue was warm but his breath was hot. More hot with lust, lust for her, than she had ever felt against her skin before. Not even with Draco, who had always been the most passionate of lovers. Nor with Ron, who had been clumsy in the beginning, but had been a quick study. It compared not even to Pansy, who had, above them all, been wrought especially and exclusively for her. No, the dance Lucius' tongue played against her chilled skin was like nothing else. Perhaps it was because he was a man and so seldom in Hermione's life had one touched her. There had been instances, of course. In Hermione Granger's case, there would always be instances.

"Your mind is elsewhere. Why?" came Lucius' demanding hiss. Jerked from her migrant thoughts, Hermione's body went rigid. Tense as it was, the bite following Lucius' slow laughter hurt worse. She gasped when his teeth sank into the flesh. She screamed when he didn't let go.

"No! Please!" she yelled down to him. She could feel the warm flow of blood running down her thighs now. When he still did not release her from his teeth's grip, she bucked wildly against him, pushing his head away. His mouth took with it a sliver of Hermione's skin and her scream could have woken the dead had the dungeon not been set under such strong silencing charms.

"You taste good, child," Lucius Malfoy said after spitting the piece of Hermione from his blood stained lips. "That's not the first time you've been paid that compliment, I'm sure."

"What do you want Lucius?" was her diminished response. She was so ashamed. Was she not braver than this? Not the smartest witch of her age? Remus had told her so, as had Sirius. Were they wrong? Had she so quickly indulged Lucius Malfoy to his mudblood whore? Succumbed to this pathetic defeat?

"I want to taste more."

Not yet, she hadn't.

"I want to do so many things, child," he continued, lifting himself up from his knees, caressing Hermione's blood slick stomach as he rose.

"Hermione," she whispered. Not good enough. She tried again, this time forcing her voice to sound strong. "_Hermione_."

Lucius smirked, not unlike his son. "Hermione. Granger. Yes, I know your name. Of course, I know the name of the mudblood bitch who had been undressing the heir to the Malfoy fortune."

Feeling suddenly more confident, if foolishly so, Hermione spoke up again. "Draco wants nothing to do with you or the Malfoy fortune. He hates it," she raised her chin slightly to him. "He hates you." His fist met her eye in lightening speed.

She forgot to feel the pain.

"He hates you! He hates you because you're wretched and cruel and perverted! And I hate you too!"

"I know you do, Hermione." Somehow the use of her name on his lips was worse than its lack. "That's why this is going to be so good." Pushing one strong hand against her forehead to keep her from biting or squirming, Lucius leaned in so close that their faces were mere inches apart. "I wonder if I will still taste my son's come on your tongue." He licked his lips. "I do hope so."

* * *

Apparating with four underage wizards clinging to your robes is a difficult task, but one that had to be done. Brooms would take way too long, and after all, Severus didn't want to be too late. Didn't want to reach Malfoy as he hovered over the girl's broken body, that familiar, twisted grin spread across his face, as he pumped his-

"Professor?"

Snape realized he had been standing still for a very long time, the children wrapped around him with looks of indistinguishable emotion on their faces. Pansy and Draco were shooting each other furtive glances, while Ron stared blankly into space and Harry tapped his foot. They were all, however, focused mainly on the Potions Master.

"Professor?" Pansy asked again.

"What is it boy?"

Pansy rolled her eyes. "Are we going to apparate soon, sir?" Severus nodded and absent-mindedly flipped his long, dark hair over one shoulder. Draco may have snickered and Ron may have flicked him off. Damn, was this really happening?

"If you're ready. _Or_ if you are _not_. I've neither the time nor the patience to save anyone's arse but Miss Granger's, is that understood? So keep your wands at the ready and your minds sharp. If one of you shall die-"

"Seriously, man! On with the bloody show," said Draco. "That's my girlfriend he's got and we're just wasting time."

They all shot him angry looks that sent him blushing.

"Hermione is not your girlfriend, Malfoy," growled Ron. Pansy pouted and poked a long fingernail into the redhead's arm.

"She isn't yours either."

"Shut up dyke."

"Shut up Weasley!"

"Malfoy, if there wasn't a teacher here-"

"Leave it, Ron."

"No Harry. I can take the whelp!"

"Can you now?"

"Come here and I'll show you!"

…

"Not that close! Bloody hell!"

Severus counted the hands clutched onto his robes and when they all measured up, he threw them off with one swift motion and apparated with a crack. The scattered sixth years were left standing confusedly about the room, their eyes searching for the man they knew was no longer there.

Pansy was the first to speak. "Where did he go?"

"Duh Parkinson. He's gone to save my girlfriend."

As imaginable, the battle over who rightfully claimed Hermione ensued once again.

Ok so there's the first chapter. Please review if you want to read more.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: The usual blather…I own nothing…JKR owns everything…way to rub it in!

Chapter Two

She had known it would happen. Wasn't it the inevitable, after all? Wasn't it the unavoidable, undeniable truth Hermione had secretly pertained all these years of knowing the Malfoys and of what they were capable? Yes, she had known full well that the day would come when this would happen. It had just been too obvious to fathom, was all. The idea itself was still bizarre to her. Kidnapped by Lucius, the father of the boy Hermione had been somewhat, technically involved with, and then beaten, tortured with an unforgivable curse…she felt shot down, like she would never have the bravery to fight back ever again. And she lay there, hanging by chains in a dank dungeon, pondering how she had ever managed herself into such a hapless predicament as the man before her stood with the meanest grimace on his face she had ever witnessed. Crueler than Draco's by far, more spine chilling than any other death eater she had ever crossed paths with. Lucius Malfoy's grimace was worse than all the others because beneath it he wore the mocking smile of someone who had always gotten his way. And here Hermione was, defenseless and wretched, another whore for him to fuck, another tally on his list, another reason why he would never stop smiling that damned smile of his. A brief surge of pain throbbed from where the circulation in her wrists should have been flowing. She stiffened her arms, trying to relieve the direct strain while making certain not to move her head and shake the meticulously placed hairs from their restive positions over her breasts. Lucius muttered something unintelligible with seeing this cautious gesture and leaned his head against hers, his lips on her cheek as he spoke the words. He had her scent on his breath now.

"Does it hurt terribly?" he coaxed, in which Hermione replied with a growl and look of detestation. "My, my," Lucius said in an amused tone. "Why so hostile? Have you learnt nothing?" He moved his mouth from her cheek and to her lips, pressing them into hers forcefully. She tossed her head aside weakly, just enough to throw him off of her momentarily. She took the spare time her lips were free and spit the vile from her mouth, gagging. A sane man may have been berated by such a reaction to his kiss, but Lucius was far offfrom the sanity of most men.

"Not nice, pretty," he said, touching a hand to her face. "I hope you don't treat my son this way."

Hermione slumped against her chains and sighed, exasperated. "I wonder how deep this eerie fascination with your son runs, Lucius," she said with a tired voice. "Incestuous, I dare assume."

A fist met her left eye with incredible force, a large ring on Lucius' hand slicing right through her eyebrow. A scar there, Hermione thought, and she almost laughed with the image of herself and Remus comparing similar battle wounds over butterbeer one night after she gets out of here. _If_ I get out, the bitter pessimist inside of her corrected morosely.

"You dare accuse me of a crime so heinous as incest?" he hollered. Then he laughed, as Hermione had silently predicted he would. Lucius' habits were becoming more and more predictable every moment, in fact. Next he would probably-

"Of course I've fucked my son, you foolish girl," he scoffed, finishing Hermione's train of thought that he would next admit to the accusation full heartedly. And now would be the speech, no doubt.

"How do you think us purebloods keep the name so pristine? I'm sure mudblood scum like yourself have not the slightest clue, but you happened to guess right, that incest _is_ the key to perfect blood. Besides," he added with a wink that made Hermione's stomach churn, "who could resist the tight arse that son of mine has? Truly told, he gets it from his mother."

"Do you rape Draco?" Hermione whispered disgustedly to him and Lucius' lip curled into a snarl.

"I do what I do best, Hermione," he said, and with that, he pulled out his wand and pointed it straight at her. "Now, you and I are going to play a little game." He waved the wand over the wrist cuffs binding her and they disappeared in an instant, making Hermione fall to the ground in a pile. She recovered miraculously, sitting up with her fists clenched and eyes wide and aware. "Now comes my favorite part. I do hope you will enjoy it. I know that I will," he said, and Lucius Malfoy cried, "Imperio!"

* * *

Severus Snape stood outside of Malfoy Manor none too discreetly. In fact, in his button covered attire of black and more black and even _more_ buttons, Snape stuck out like a sore thumb. A pity, he thought. As he usually loved a good surprise.

The location had been typical. He knew Lucius, knew where he usually brought his…what word to use, Severus wondered. "Whore" would naturally be the best in most situations as thus, but somehow with Hermione…no, whore wasn't the word here. _Victim_ was. Lucius, Severus knew from experience, brought his _victims_ here. And this was where he had taken Hermione as well. They would be in the dungeon. She would be in bondages. He would beat her, rape her, and kill her.

He knew this because he used to help.

Severus thought of Hermione for a moment while trying not to think too hard about her. She was the most brilliant Potions student he had had the pleasure to teach and he had rather liked her. Now, she was probably…he forced his mind to trail off, allowed his anger to rise. He would need to be angry for what he was about to do.

And as he broke through the Wards at the front door, Severus only hoped he wasn't too late.

* * *

She was kneeling on the floor in front of him, her hands at her side and her eyes straight ahead.

"I think I like you much better this way," Lucius said. "Now, take off your skirt and knickers."

Inside, Hermione was screaming and retching and hating…but on the surface her eyes were emotionless and her mouth only twitched nervously as she moved her fingers to her hips and smoothed the skirt down over her thighs and to the floor. Then they moved up to her panties and, without hesitation, pulled them down as well. Lucius stared greedily at the youthful patch of dark hair that played against her milky skin, enjoying every bit of the naked girl before him.

"You're loose, doubtless. A shame I won't be the one with the honor of being your first. Was it my son, I wonder?"

Hermione's first had been a long time ago, but it had not been with Draco Malfoy. Or Ronald Weasley. Or Pansy Parkinson.

"No?" Lucius asked with mild surprise. "Interesting. Who could it have been…"

Hermione's face was still vacant, save the blush that was beginning in her cheeks. He need only ask and she would have to tell him truthfully whom it had been with. With whom it still _was, _always.

"Who?" Lucius asked her, unzipping his nicely tailored black pants.

And Hermione opened her lips to answer but as the name was said, a louder noise washed out the sound. Severus Snape came crashing through the door, sending heavy stone smashing against heavy stone in an uproar of commotion that made Lucius take his wand off Hermione and point it at Severus.

"Avada Kedavra!"

* * *

All was silent butfor the tremor in Hermione's breathing. She lay naked on the dungeon floor with her head in a man's lap. She looked at the long white hair and threw up. A cool hand brushed her forehead as another held back her hair. Then the man picked Hermione up in his arms and turned her away from Lucius' dead body.

"You're okay now, Hermione," came a whisper in her ear and she looked up at Severus Snape. He was the last thing she saw before sighing and slipping into unconsciousness.


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I own none of these characters.

Chapter 3

Hermione awoke to the clambering of dishes and the pitchy hum of a teakettle. She lay there without opening her eyes or moving only because she couldn't remember where she was or what had happened to her that was causing the pounding in her head. And the pounding was intense, to say the very least. Her tongue felt thick inside her mouth and her head was too heavy to lift, but where she was lying it was soft and warm.

"Mm," she sounded, testing her ability to make noise. "Mm," she tried again. It sounded all right enough but very weak and scratchy. It would _have_ to do. "Hello?"

As soon as the words left her mouth another loud clang came from somewhere nearby and Hermione heard footsteps running toward her. Still not wanting to open her eyes, she waited quietly on her back for signs of any more movement. She started slightly when a warm hand closed over the cold one at her side. There was an even breathing coming from the person beside her and she longed to know who it was but her eyes were aching painfully inside her skull.

"Hermione," came the deep and silky voice in her ear. "Hermione."

In a moment of shock, her eyes shot wide open and, between the discomfort of the light and the protests her body was screaming at her, she saw the man that she had longed see.

"Severus," she whispered, her voice raw and light.

"Shhh," he hushed her, placing a hand on her cheek. "You're safe. He's dead."

Hermione looked up at him quizzically. Who was dead and when was she _unsafe_?"

"Lucius Malfoy," Snape told her as if he had read her mind, which he most probably had done.

It was with this response that it all came flooding back to her memory. The torture, the molestation, the disgusting face that grimaced triumphantly at her…With the hand that Snape wasn't holding, Hermione felt her still bare stomach and the chunk of skin that was missing from it. Something vile rose is her throat and she choked to keep it down.

Snape brought a cool rag to her forehead and she closed her eyes against the angry tears that were beginning to form.

"Severus," she said again. "I…I," she was shaking now and he brought her up to rest in his arms.

He was warm and smelt of potion fumes and something else Hermione couldn't place as she nuzzled her face into his neck. A small moan escaped his lips and she could feel his heart beating rapidly. She brought her arms around his body in a desperate embrace and he held her tightly against him, lowering them both back down into the sheets. She forced herself to look and saw her professor's eyes as they appraised the bruised body beneath him.

"Does it hurt much?" he asked her.

She shook her head, lying to him. "No."

He ran his hands across her skin with soft caresses, amused at the small noises Hermione made with each one.

* * *

"I can't believe he left us!" Harry yelled as he paced the Gryffindor common room. It was late into the evening and they all ought to have been in bed but the small group of students was wide-awake and anxious as ever. Ron stood by the fire, fidgeting with his hair as Harry bantered on and on. Meanwhile, Pansy and Draco, hesitant guests in the room, were sitting on separate chairs and staring blankly at the plush carpet.

"I mean," Harry continued. "We were supposed to help! Who knows if Snape even reached her in time!"

"The whole thing's ridiculous," Draco snarled.

Pansy glared at him accusingly. "It's ridiculous that _your_ father likes fucking little girls."

"Shut up about my father," he said, his shoulders tensing. Ron turned from the fire and Draco could have sworn he was staring strangely at him. "It isn't my fault."

"Well I'm choosing to blame the only available Malfoy in the meantime, if that's alright," Pansy said.

Draco stood from his chair and crossed the room to stand closer to Ron and Harry. Pansy pouted and crossed her arms.

"This is stupid," said Ron, his first words in a while. Draco eyes him curiously. "It isn't Draco's fault. He couldn't have done anything."

"I don't need you defending me," Draco snapped much too quickly.

"Right," mumbled Harry sarcastically and he stopped pacing to stand before all of them with confidence.

The three of them stared back dumbly.

"No matter which of us Hermione is dating," Pansy rolled her eyes at Harry's words, "I'm tired of waiting around for Snape to bring her back. Let's go get some answers mates!"

"I'm not your mate," Draco hissed.

"Nor am I," agreed Pansy. But the four of them still left the Gryffindor common room together, in search for their mutual girlfriend.


End file.
